The four of them – Nelson, the cowgirl, the fist, and the injured one – crouched alongside the wall facing out towards the former US Bank building. The others seemed exasperated and lost in their own thoughts, but Nelson could hear something. It started as a rattling out in the hallway and down the stairs. It was faint at first.
“I think someone’s downstairs,” Nelson whispered.
The Fist got up, much to the surprise of Nelson and the others, and walked over to the empty door frame which separated them from the hallway. One by one, the group ventured out. The injured one tried to sneak along the wall opposite the door to peer around the corner and down the stairs. As he moved, however, he accidently kicked a piece of aluminum scrap, which was laying on the outside of a heap of trash, and alerted those downstairs to the group’s presence.
Nelson followed the fist as she moved toward the stairwell. As they moved past the injured one, the three of them exchanged glances. Nelson and the fist were visibly disappointed while the injured one shook his head apologetically.
Giving up any attempt at stealth, the Fist barreled down the stairs onto the landing. Nelson, who was still around the corner, witnessed a beam of light pierce the darkness. A man’s voice called out from the void.
“We have Parker. Give yourselves up and she won’t be hurt!”
The Fist dipped her head around the corner, turned to Nelson and murmered, “There are at least five Waltzers down there.”
Before Nelson could respond, she disappeared around the corner. He gripped the hilt of his sword as hard as he could, made the sign of the cross over himself, and stepped around the corner into the dark. The flashlights of the guards danced as the Fist skirmished with them. In the inconsistent light, Nelson could see that Parker had her hands tied behind her back and a rope went from her restrained wrists to the iron grip of one of the Waltzers. As his eyes followed the rope, Nelson saw the Fist land a powerful blow on the Waltzer holding Parker.
One of the other Waltzers was moving quickly across the room and towards the Fist. Nelson took a deep breath and lunged at the man with his sword. He connected with the Waltzer’s clavicle causing the man to stagger back away from the barely lit brawl. Another Waltzer lunged at Nelson with an apparently home-made metal truncheon but Nelson saw him coming and parried his club with the sword, causing it to fall from the Waltzer’s hands.
Nelson took the opportunity to sever the rope connecting Parker to the Waltzer holding her captive. The shadows of Parker and the Fist danced along the wall as the two women dashed up the stairs. Looking around and realizing he was alone with at least three Waltzers, Nelson was quick to follow the women back upstairs. While he didn’t look back until he was at the top of the stairs, Nelson heard the Waltzer’s boots bounding up the cement stairs.
Nelson, the Fist and Parker returned to the room where they had been hiding earlier. The cowgirl and the injured one were nowhere to be found. There wasn’t much time to conduct an investigation because one of the Waltzers, apparently the fastest of the bunch, was close behind. He stood over Parker, who had tripped through the threshold of the doorway, preparing to deliver a coup de grace. Breathing deeply, Nelson lunged and put his sword through the Waltzer’s stomach. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell whose blood was whose.
Nelson kneeled down over Parker who was lying face down on the floor, covered in blood.
“Cut me free,” she gasped.
He was quick to oblige and used his sword to saw through the rope which bound Parker’s hands. Seconds after Parker had been liberated, Nelson saw the Fist vanish back through the door frame. Nelson instinctively joined her and saw five shadows toward the end of the hall. He also saw the shimmer of a beam of moonlight reflecting off of a shiny officer’s pistol. Before he could process the scene, the light from a flashlight dazzled Nelson as it bombarded his eyes.
A feeling of dread came over him. He couldn’t see anything. His grip on his sword began to loosen as drops of blood dribbled over the handle and on to his hand. A moment of silence gripped the hallway before five loud cracks from five shiny pistols immolated that fleeting moment of peace.
The adrenaline prevented from feeling the pain, but it didn’t prevent him from tasting the blood as he fell to his knees. The smell of his poncho smoldering around the edges of five bullet holes filled his nostrils as he fell from his knees to his stomach into a lukewarm puddle of blood.
A light penetrated his field of vision followed by infinite darkness.
“I think someone’s downstairs,” Nelson whispered.
The Fist got up, much to the surprise of Nelson and the others, and walked over to the empty door frame which separated them from the hallway. One by one, the group ventured out. The injured one tried to sneak along the wall opposite the door to peer around the corner and down the stairs. As he moved, however, he accidently kicked a piece of aluminum scrap, which was laying on the outside of a heap of trash, and alerted those downstairs to the group’s presence.
Nelson followed the fist as she moved toward the stairwell. As they moved past the injured one, the three of them exchanged glances. Nelson and the fist were visibly disappointed while the injured one shook his head apologetically.
Giving up any attempt at stealth, the Fist barreled down the stairs onto the landing. Nelson, who was still around the corner, witnessed a beam of light pierce the darkness. A man’s voice called out from the void.
“We have Parker. Give yourselves up and she won’t be hurt!”
The Fist dipped her head around the corner, turned to Nelson and murmered, “There are at least five Waltzers down there.”
Before Nelson could respond, she disappeared around the corner. He gripped the hilt of his sword as hard as he could, made the sign of the cross over himself, and stepped around the corner into the dark. The flashlights of the guards danced as the Fist skirmished with them. In the inconsistent light, Nelson could see that Parker had her hands tied behind her back and a rope went from her restrained wrists to the iron grip of one of the Waltzers. As his eyes followed the rope, Nelson saw the Fist land a powerful blow on the Waltzer holding Parker.
One of the other Waltzers was moving quickly across the room and towards the Fist. Nelson took a deep breath and lunged at the man with his sword. He connected with the Waltzer’s clavicle causing the man to stagger back away from the barely lit brawl. Another Waltzer lunged at Nelson with an apparently home-made metal truncheon but Nelson saw him coming and parried his club with the sword, causing it to fall from the Waltzer’s hands.
Nelson took the opportunity to sever the rope connecting Parker to the Waltzer holding her captive. The shadows of Parker and the Fist danced along the wall as the two women dashed up the stairs. Looking around and realizing he was alone with at least three Waltzers, Nelson was quick to follow the women back upstairs. While he didn’t look back until he was at the top of the stairs, Nelson heard the Waltzer’s boots bounding up the cement stairs.
Nelson, the Fist and Parker returned to the room where they had been hiding earlier. The cowgirl and the injured one were nowhere to be found. There wasn’t much time to conduct an investigation because one of the Waltzers, apparently the fastest of the bunch, was close behind. He stood over Parker, who had tripped through the threshold of the doorway, preparing to deliver a coup de grace. Breathing deeply, Nelson lunged and put his sword through the Waltzer’s stomach. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tell whose blood was whose.
Nelson kneeled down over Parker who was lying face down on the floor, covered in blood.
“Cut me free,” she gasped.
He was quick to oblige and used his sword to saw through the rope which bound Parker’s hands. Seconds after Parker had been liberated, Nelson saw the Fist vanish back through the door frame. Nelson instinctively joined her and saw five shadows toward the end of the hall. He also saw the shimmer of a beam of moonlight reflecting off of a shiny officer’s pistol. Before he could process the scene, the light from a flashlight dazzled Nelson as it bombarded his eyes.
A feeling of dread came over him. He couldn’t see anything. His grip on his sword began to loosen as drops of blood dribbled over the handle and on to his hand. A moment of silence gripped the hallway before five loud cracks from five shiny pistols immolated that fleeting moment of peace.
The adrenaline prevented from feeling the pain, but it didn’t prevent him from tasting the blood as he fell to his knees. The smell of his poncho smoldering around the edges of five bullet holes filled his nostrils as he fell from his knees to his stomach into a lukewarm puddle of blood.
A light penetrated his field of vision followed by infinite darkness.